The Magnificence of the Queen
by Haley Brimley
Summary: This story contains spanking Jessie purchases a dress with her dad's credit card; Eli takes the blame, but then gets even with her.


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Once _and_** Again**

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– The Magnificence of the Queen –

(m/f semi-cons, serious)

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Introductory note: the show featured black-and-white in-betweens where the characters spoke their inner thoughts to an invisible interlocutor. **This story is wholly narrated with that approach**, with the one brief exception of the spanking itself. Therefore, the italic text is only used for events described in third person, and not vice-versa.

---- START OF STORY----

The worst spanking I ever got?

Let me think...

Yeah, sure, that must be it. It was three months ago, and in a way it was also my best. And yes, a spanking can really do good, also here on the receiving end. I remember it clearly and I always will, for it was the first spanking that I actually asked for.

Well, no, the word "ask" just isn't right; it almost sounds like I wrote "Spank me!" on picket signs and get around the city streets showing them. I'd rather say... err... well, let's just say I felt it proper for my behaviour, and I didn't even protest. If anything, I pushed my spanker to give it to me good so I would learn a lesson. And it worked: what my brother Eli made me learn that afternoon I will never forget as long as I live.

–––

That's right, I spanked my little sister. It only happened once, but it was worth it. I love Jessie, you know, in fact I love her more than any other girl or woman in my life. More than Jennifer, more than that Grace Manning, sometimes maybe even more than mom. She's my sister, and there's a very strong bond between a big brother and a younger sister. It's, like, whenever something happens to her I can't say "Who cares?" and just get along. I need to help her, I have to. It's like my first duty, you know? I grew up alone and didn't have older siblings to watch over me, but she has this one chance and I want her to feel it when necessary. On that particular afternoon, I felt that my helping hand would be a smacking hand, so to speak, and so it went.

–––

Dad spanked us since we were very young. I remember my first "spanking instance", as he called it, occurring when I was three. I'd let a glass of milk fall to the floor after mom told me, like, a thousand times not to try and pick it, but did I listen? No, and that was it. This time it was different, because mom and dad never found out what I did, and all thanks to Eli. He's the one who found out, and he's the one who helped me through it.

Well, it was like this.

I'd seen a dress at HotSail's, a dress that I absolutely loved. I'm more of the sporty type, you know, with baggy jeans and tops or shirts, but I really loved that: knee-long, yellow with multicoloured flowers all-over, beautiful tissue and everything. It was, like, rectangular with the strings at the top, very classy but also very nice. I wanted it, no matter what, so I'd taken mom along to convince her that it was the best for me, and she seemed to agree... until she saw the price. Well, it was so high it amazed me as well. I mean, 200$ for one dress is way too much for us! I think it's too much for anyone with a sane mind after all. And then mom said it wasn't appropriate, for my shoulders were wholly exposed and I would look like "a woman", as she put it. Well, I sure understood what she meant, and I understood there was no way she'd buy me that, and so I didn't put up much of a show in front of the shop's owners. I guess I already had my plan coming, who knows?

The thing is, I'm tenacious. I never give up on something unless I'm damn sure I can't get it, and the way I saw it, that dress was not out of reach. As I was back home I checked my money, but it was useless: I knew I had much less than that in my closet, and there was no way I could use my bank fund, because only mom and dad can access that. I could tell I was getting desperate by then, but often a solution comes when you least expect it. Well, maybe it comes when _I_ least expect it! Believe it or not, it fell right on my lap.

I was surfing the Net on dad's computer before going to bed, as I always do, because my friend Chrissy could write me an e-mail at any time. I guess I was sort of sleepy, because instead of typing "hotmail.com" I typed "hotsail.com". I still can't understand how that happened, since "m" and "s" are so far from each other on a keyboard. Well, I did it, and instead of the mail stuff I got this web site selling clothes. It really was HotSail's web site, you understand?! They _did_ have a web site, and there I was. Knowing the chance I had and using it was really, really fast.

I checked their online catalogue, and in no time found that dress: they sold it via Internet as well, and the price was just a bit higher, some 210$ or so, I'm not sure. I thought to myself: _I'm about to make such a stupid thing that ten bucks won't make a difference_. And in fact they didn't, in the end, but that's not the point. The point is me taking dad's wallet from his pocket, then his credit card from the wallet and using it to purchase the thing online. It's really that easy, you see?, for if you give the card number and your name and stuff they won't really ask questions, not as long as you pay them. Now I just had to make sure that I caught the shipping before anyone did, and I was gonna be okay.

The dress shipped the week later, because it came from their New York stores and not from our local one. Luckily I was home alone at that time. Well, let me tell you: it was well worth the wait! It was one of the best things I'd ever seen. As I admired it, I understood I could never really use it, at least not in front of my parents. I should've waited for some party or a night out to wear it, making sure to change before going out and before getting back home. It was going to be tough, I knew, but also that was worth the hassle.

Things were perfect for a couple of days, until finally someone had a hint of my misdeed, and the world came apart. I know that all credit card purchases can be seen by the card's owner in a monthly report from the bank. Well, another way to say it is "I know _now_". Yet another way is "I know now because dad found out then". And yet another way is "I know now because after dad found it he was furious".

It happened like this. I was on the couch in the living room, reading some stupid magazine, I don't remember. He stormed in like a crazed man, and I could tell he was really mad. He was holding a piece of paper, which was – I would learn later – the card's monthly report.

"Jessie," he said, trying to remain calm but not really succeeding.

"Yeah dad?" I said coolly, not having the slightest hint of what was going on.

"You know anything about two hundred and ten dollars spent at some HotSail's Clothing Company nine days ago?"

I froze. That was it, I was doomed. I was dead for good, I was six feet underground. No more Jessie Sammler, you people hail to Jessie Sammler 'cuz you'll never see her again. Not alive anyway.

I was like: "Err..." I didn't really know what to say. Better to deny it and keep my point or to tell the truth now, so maybe he would go easy on me?

Yeah, right. Easy. Yes, telling the truth seemed the best choice. After all, I'd done something stupid just for the sake of it, and now I was going to pay the consequences. As my eyes began to water, I was about to spat it all out...

... but never did. The second before I could say "Yes daddy", Eli came in from the front door.

"Hello everyone."

It was my moment of pure luck. Dad said: "You wait here. Don't you dare move," and approached my brother.

"Eli, you know anything about... What's this?"

He'd noticed he was wearing a pair of brand-new trousers, great-looking blue jeans that still smelled of laundry service.

Eli, too, was hesitant. "Well, you know..."

"Now I get it. Does it have anything to do with this?" and he shoved the report right on his face. Eli must've known how to read it, because he started reading it right away. "Was it you to pay two hundred and ten dollars with my credit card? I see you have some pretty new jeans, Eli, and this here looks like a clothing store. So?"

Now, believe me: I don't know why nor how, but somehow Eli knew what was going on. He took his eyes off the report and threw me a quick glance. It was _real_ quick, I swear, but somehow he understood everything. Maybe it was the frantic expression on my face, or maybe my eyes already watering, or maybe a male sixth sense that it's unspoken of... Well, I didn't really care. Not when I heard him say:

"Yeah, dad. It was me."

I froze even more. I guess my heart _did_ stop beating for a second. It's not just something you say: it really did stop, I swear! He'd pleaded guilt for something he'd never done? Well, he'd been reading the card for, how long?, two seconds? My wonderful big brother took all my guilt two seconds after knowing there was some guilt to take from his sister.

Now, isn't that adorable?

–––

I still don't know why I did it. I should leave that to dad and go my own way. But as I saw Jessie's look I knew something was wrong. I suddenly knew she'd done everything dad was blaming one of us for, I knew she was in all the way and that dad would really, really kill her for that. What else could I do? Sit and watch my sister being slaughtered?

Okay, I'm kidding. No kid-slaughter here, never! ;-) But dad would wallop that skinny ass of hers good if he realised it had been her. And then, I sure didn't do the damn thing, and who else if not Jessie? As I said, I just need to take care of her, and in my opinion that was included in taking care of her. I was being a good brother saving her like that, also because I knew she would learn her lesson anyway.

–––

"Can you tell me WHY ON EARTH you did something like this?!" dad screamt.

"Well, you know..." Eli fumbled with the words as I watched bedazzled. "I wanted them real bad and... it was the easiest way to buy them. I hadn't thought of the report, really."

"So you were going to steal all those money, period?!"

"No, I never! I'd pay you back, be sure."

"How can I be sure? Not a word for nine days and now, tell me, how can I be sure? Do I have any reason to trust you?"

Eli lowered his head. "No, not really."

"Oh my God," said dad, and he passed his fingers through his hair.

"I'll pay you the whole sum off my allowances," Eli said.

Dad smiled ironically. "Yes, you sure will do that. And I'm tempted to have you pay twice that, but that wouldn't be fair. And I'm also tempted to turn you over my knee and spank you like a toddler, but you've outgrown me and I can't even do that."

"I'm really, really sorry dad. Really, believe me."

"Yes, I hope you are, Eli. Enjoy those jeans here and at school if you wish, because you won't have any other chance to do so. This means you're grounded for two months, you hear me? Two months. And not a word. Up to your room, now."

"Yes, dad. Sorry, dad."

And he was upstairs in no time. Dad shook his head, looking once again at the report sheet. Going back to his study, he passed in front of the sofa and kissed my hair.

"Sorry, sweetheart. You had nothing to do with this. Just you don't take your brother as an example."

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Now I felt miserable, and wanted to cry.

–––

"Eli?"

He was sitting at his table, his head low, probably thinking about things. He wouldn't answer.

"Eli, I wanted to..."

"What was that?" he asked, without even turning around.

"What?"

Now he did, and he faced me. I could tell he _was_ disappointed. "What kiddy cloth could be worth 210 bucks?"

I couldn't take it anymore, and I started to cry. Though I saw him through blurry eyes, I could tell he was unmoved.

"It's a dress. I'd seen it at HotSail but mom said no... And so..."

"Now I get it. I mean, are you just _out of your mind_?!" He screamt those last words, making me shudder. "Dad would kill you if he only knew! Don't you know that card purchases can be seen at any time by the card's owner?"

"No..." I whimpered pitifully.

"Did you at least clear the computer history as I taught you?"

I nodded.

"Well, at least I didn't back up your ass for nothing."

Still crying, I sat on his bed and kept my head in my hands. Maybe he was moved at that, because he sat beside me and circled my shoulders with his arm.

"Listen, Jessie," he said, a warm and reassuring voice. "Why on Earth didn't you ask me? If you wanted it bad, you could ask me for the money."

"You'd never give me two hundred dollars..."

"You're right, I probably wouldn't. But I could give you something, and I can always ask mom; she's more lenient with me when it's about lending money, you know that. I could tell her it was for the subscription to some goddamn club, and she'd believe me."

I didn't really like that G word, but I felt like that was _no_ time to complain about foul language. Actually, I felt like using some foul language myself!

"I'm so sorry, Eli!" I said, and cried on his shoulder. Literally, I mean. I hugged him, and let myself go. He stayed cool for a while, but then he hugged me back and caressed my hair and back trying to reassure me.

"Hush, it's alright now. It's alright, don't worry. Only, don't screw this up: don't tell mom or dad, or you'll get a horrible punishment and mine won't be revoked because I backed you up, is that understood?"

I nodded, but I wasn't sure I could do that. The pain for having my brother pay in my place was too much, and I wasn't going to accept such a thing.

"But Eli, now you'll be grounded... I don't want that."

He shrugged and smiled: "I'm sure you don't want dad's belt either."

"No way!" I said, and with the word 'belt' my wails reached new heights. I also felt my bottom tingling with fear: I guess it's sort of an instinct.

He broke our embrace, and put his hands on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eye:

"Now, Jessie: be sincere. You can keep this a secret, can't you?"

Again I nodded, but outside I was trembling. Maybe it was some more of that male intuition, but I could tell he was not buying any of it.

"Oh no, you won't..." he said. "You're feeling guilty for this, aren't you?"

Again I nodded.

"You're too sorry for me..."

Again I nodded.

"... and sooner or later you're going to give up and tell someone, aren't you?"

Again I nodded. He sighed heavily.

"We can't allow that, Jessie. It would do good to no one. My punishment would still remain, you know dad, and yours will be even worse."

"I know," I sniffled, "but I can't help it. Eli, I feel horrible!"

"And you should, and you should. What you did wasn't something I expected from you."

I cried even harder at that, because disappointing him was another thing I couldn't bear.

"But I know the remedy, Jessie," he said.

–––

It's one of those things that light up in your mind in one second's time. The moment I chose to back Jessie up I also knew that she wouldn't really allow me. You know, when I was younger I used to believe that punishment is just a parent thing, and that us kids don't repeat the same action only to avoid being punished a second time. Yes, it's basically like that, but we also need it. It's not about that "I spank you because I love you" bullshit, no; it's rather about conscience. We need our conscience clean and pure, we need it perfect, we need to know we faced the consequences of our actions. It is a sign of maturity to do so, and in showing to me her sorrow Jessie was showing to be very mature indeed. In a way, I was happy for her, because that meant she was growing up alright. Shame is a natural feeling, and we shouldn't be afraid to feel it.

Also because there's one quick, although painful, way to get rid of it.

–––

Through my tears I said:

"I shall accept any punishment you will give me."

It sounded really formal, and I guess that's why Eli smiled. I smiled too, because for a moment I sounded like an adult. And I felt like one, because for the first time I was dealing with my choices; not in front of dad, but in front of Eli, and to me it was even more important.

He said: "I won't spank you as dad would, but I will still spank you, Jessie."

I nodded.

"But first, there's one thing I want you to do. Go to your room and wear that dress."

–––

Well, I just thought it would be a memorable punishment if she did wear it, so she would have the reason why she was being spanked before her very eyes.

–––

At first it sounded weird, but it's very logical if you think about it. Looking back, it was what I needed, because I will remember those seconds spent putting the dress on even more than the spanking itself. I never stopped crying, and I was scared, but I knew it was the right thing to do. It was one of those moments when you feel you're "well behaving" but don't really know why. All you know is that you're _not_ going to regret it.

In my room, I took off my jeans and shirt, and got the dress out from the very bottom of the closet. I wore it, and again I asked myself: "Is it worth all of this?". Well, I haven't found an answer yet. One sure thing is that this experience has helped my growth more than any parental spanking I got in my whole life, before and after that situation.

With the dress on, I went back to Eli's room, and he was waiting for me on the bed. Aside him lay my own brown maple hairbrush.

–––

She looked radiant in that dress. Twelve-year-olds really aren't my knack, but if she was any girl other than my sister I would lay my eyes on her because of that dress. Well, one more reason why she shouldn't wear it in public!

"I'm ready," she said as she stood in the doorway.

I nodded. "For what it's worth, you look like a Queen."

–––

It was the best thing I've ever been told. The best, ever, no questions asked. If I still had any doubts, now they had been flushed away, and I approached Eli's bed with a steady pace.

There were no more words from that moment on, and I remember the silence being almost ear-splitting. Eli guided me in front of him, then he lowered me down across his lap. I was bent over at the waist, my hands, my hair and my white-socked feet barely touching the floor. I'm rather tall for my age, but he is too, and so in a way I felt just like being spanked by an adult.

I felt my two-hundred and ten dollars dress rise up my legs to my waist and past that, until Eli folded it neatly on my back. Delicately but resolutely he inserted both hands' fingers in the waistband of my panties, and pulled them down; they reached my feet and stayed down around the ankles. He shifted my weight on his lap so to adjust me, and then I heard him picking up the hairbrush from the bed. Knowing it was starting, I braced myself.

–––

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SPANK!! CRACK!!

Eli spanked Jessie's upturned buttocks with strength. Not with all his might, though, because her sister looked so frail, and her bottom so small and skinny, that he hardly needed much force to drive the message through.

WHACK!! SPANK!!

Still, it was a hairbrush spanking, and it was meant to sting.

WHACK!! CRACK!! WHAP!!

Jessie's cries increased soon after the first blow, and continued in a constant crescendo as the spanking went on.

SPANK!! CRACK!! WHAP!!

After ten hearty smacks, which had left ten distinct red oval blotches on the child's milky skin, Eli paused. Jessie was crying in earnest, hiding her face in her hands, but she was making no attempt at all to escape.

SPANK!! CRACK!! SPANK!! SPANK!! WHACK!!

Five more blows, a bit harder than the previous ones and aimed at the thighs, ended Eli's first and last spanking to his little sister. After letting her rest on his knees for a while, he helped her up. Jessie immediately brought her hands back and massaged her burning behind.

Eli picked up the girl's panties resting on the carpet, and after that he grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it off completely.

"I'd better be keeping this," he said. "If anyone asks, I can say it's Jennifer's little sister's and that Jennifer forgot it here when she opened her gym bag, can't I?"

Again, Jessie Sammler smiled.

"What about the money?"

"We'll pay it half and half, okay?"

"Thank you."

Then she hugged her brother and cried away.

–––

That was also a very sweet thing to do. He was the best that afternoon, really. He had spanked me hard, there's no denying it: the following morning he'd asked me to check for bruises, but there were none. Of course my arse was still pink, because fifteen smacks with the hairbrush on the bare are harsh, and I found it hard to sit still for the following hours... and yet I loved him. I loved him for his heroism, his courage and his resoluteness. He said he's proud of me because I understood I had to be punished. Well, it takes no genius to understand that.

"No," he had said, "but it takes a grown-up girl, and you are."

As I said, this was my worst punishment because of the incredible amount of emotions it stirred inside me, much more than any other. And it was the best for the very same reason.

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THE END


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